


The Best Christmas Present

by samsg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, F/M, Humor, Mistletoe, Not Canon Compliant, Shipmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsg1/pseuds/samsg1
Summary: A totally not-to-be-taken-seriously SGC Christmas party fic written for Shipmas 2020. Short and silly. Set in Season 6.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	The Best Christmas Present

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a stupid story I came up with at 1am on Boxing Day. Hope it's not too late to post in time for Christmas!

Sam hated these kinds of gatherings. She wished Janet was here, but she was lucky enough to be on stand-by in the infirmary for any party mishaps, and probably wouldn't be joining until much later that evening. 

For some reason this year, she felt as though all eyes in the room had been on her all night. The Santa outfit Janet had picked out for her to wear for the base’s annual Christmas shin-dig was tasteful enough, and she’d already checked in the mirror to make sure she didn’t have any bits of stuffing from the buffet table wedged in her teeth. So, deciding she was probably just imagining it, she downed another cup of punch and tried to relax and enjoy the party as best as she could. 

Except, she couldn’t relax when Felger kept jumping out of the crowd unexpectedly, holding a sprig of mistletoe and trying to beckon her into a kiss, waggling his stupid eyebrows. For someone so utterly clumsy both in the lab and in the field, she couldn’t figure out how on Earth he was managing to sneak up on her when the commissary really wasn’t that large of a room.

Eyes scanning the room, she quickly clocked onto the Colonel’s position, who she located, unsurprisingly, at the dessert section of the buffet. Making her way to him for safety, she was amused to hear that he was singing ‘eeny meeny miny moe’ in sing-song, pointing in turn at the various cakes and pies, completely unaware of his 2IC’s incoming presence.

There was a sudden ringing gasp around the room and everyone seemed to fall silent. Bewildered, both she and the Colonel froze and looked up at the sudden change in their surroundings, just as they would do on a strange planet when sensing danger.

Out of nowhere, Jonas jumped out from the crowd shouting, “Jack! Sam! From what I’ve learned of your Earth culture, you gotta kiss now, right?” and he began jangling his own extra-long branch of mistletoe above their heads, causing Sam’s face to become even redder than the punch had already coloured her cheeks.

“Jonas, quit dicking around,” cried the Colonel incredulously as the sprig swatted him smack in the face, and Sam couldn't help but laugh as she watched him attempt to bat away the offending plant angrily, reminding her of her previous cat, Schrodinger.

“But Jack, Teal’c said that it was your planet’s law that at Christmas two people have to kiss when they’re under muscletoe,” Jonas whined.

“It’s _mistle_ toe, and what? No! I’m her CO, I can’t just do something like that with the Major.”

“Oh come on, son,” came General Hammond’s booming Texan voice as he emerged from the crowd chuckling, his large belly protruding from his tight-fit Christmas sweater jiggling like Santa. He patted them each on the shoulder, saying, “Don’t leave the crowd hanging. It _is_ Christmas, after all,” which was followed by whoops and whistles erupting from the surrounding crowd.

“Sir?” both he and Sam asked disbelieving. But maybe she’d had too much punch, because when the Colonel looked at her as the General stepped back, eyes searching hers for permission, she shrugged her shoulders with a shy smile, saying, “Well if the General’s on board-”

The Colonel's lips were on hers in an instant. She barely heard the screams and shouts from their audience. The whole world seemed to melt away at their hot contact. He tasted gently of beer and chocolate, and her stomach flopped as he suddenly dipped her, his arms wrapped securely around her back and waist. 

“All right then people!” came a loud voice, and the world came crashing back as the kiss came to an abrupt end. The Colonel returned her to stand upright, and she looked around, slightly dazed, to catch sight of Sergeant Harriman unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket and drawing out a pen. “Who had 1-20 odds on Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter kissing at the Christmas party?” he called.

“ _What?!_ hissed the Colonel, glowering at the raising of several hands in the crowd.

“Master Sergeant Harriman, were the odds of the wager not decreased by enlisting the assistance of General Hammond?” came Teal’c’s deep voice from within the crowd.

“Ah you’re right, Teal’c,” he said, scrawling a note on his paper with a pen. “Sorry, make that 1-10 odds, everyone!” he announced, which was met by several groans from the room.

“Walter, I’ll deal with you later,” Colonel O’Neill called angrily at the man, now exchanging wads of cash with several Airmen. “But not before I get my hands on Jonas!” he fumed, eyes searching the crowd for his team’s newest member. “I’m gonna kill him for this!”

Sam, on the other hand, made a mental note to put in a good word for Jonas with nurse Lt. Rush in the infirmary for his part in getting her the best Christmas present she'd ever had.


End file.
